I bought a basil plant in order to turn it into an ingredient for a salad. There was more basil to the plant (or rather, several plants) than I could eat; the fate of such basils is the window sill. They can double as decoration! And this one, and that was a first, defiantly burst into flower... Isn't there beauty in something like that? Repaying a life threat with fertility, optimism and prettiness?